The things we laid do not amount to much made of abandoned wood loose stones and such

this revolution baby proves who you work for lately

release the castaways who run amok from self appointed winds which blow and such when present tense gets strangled in the mire made of our cozy decomposing wires

who do you work for baby and does it work for you lately

but when the night is over and the walls start burning when fire starts to matter and the clock is churning cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from learning

it's alright

the things we laid do not amount to much made up of thought balloons and cotton swabs when present tense gets strangled in the woes made of our future foe scenarios

this revolution baby proves who you work for lately who do you work for baby and does it work for you lately

but when the night is over and the walls keep linking when fire starts to matter and the clock keeps sinking cliches and other chatter keeps our minds from thinking our minds keep thinking

it's alright

that's when it turned on me a motorcade of 'meant to be's parades of beauty queens where soft entwines make kindling these many detailed things like broken nails and plastic rings will win by keeping me from speaking to my new darling and there's no way to know our future foe scenarios that's when it turned on me where bobby pins hold angel wings